Running From the Finish Line
by FarFromHeroic
Summary: Four years of running will change anyone, but with a past as bloody as hers, change could be a good thing.
1. Chapter 1

On the second floor of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of a small town in northern Pennsylvania, a young, dark-haired woman woke up on top of a blanket with a gasp. She looked around, apparently searching for something. After a few seconds her breathing returned to normal and she calmly stood, packed up the blanket in her worn backpack, and walked over to a seemingly random window.

She jumped out only to land on the top of a maintenance shed at the back of the building. She once again searched her surroundings, and finding them to be satisfactory, climbed down from her vantage point into an alley. In the dark, early morning light of fall, she walked out of the alley away from the town and, for all intents and purposes, moving on. This was obviously not a surprising event for the woman, routine even.

Probably because this time wasn't the first occurrence.

~x~

Four years.

Four years of her life, gone; four years wasted running from who she was supposed to become. Was being the key word. Not even that was an option anymore. She refused to ever let it become one again.

That was one reason she was running.

By midday, the woman had reached another town, this one much smaller, only a couple of miles away from the last. It would do perfectly. Not large enough to have practice in fast response calls for police, but large enough that she would be able to find what she needed. Now she only had to search for a target.

"Something on the outskirts," she thought. "It'll be farther from the police station, and it will make for a quick and easy get away."

She wandered for a bit, alert as she did so, searching for a prime target. Soon, the woman found an older-style corner store, one that would most likely have faulty cameras. She walked into the store, once again searching around herself, nodding to the teenager sitting bored at the counter. The two cameras caught her attention almost immediately, though one appeared to be offline.

After walking the store, aisle by aisle, the woman placed herself out of view of the camera and grabbed a few necessities. Her pack now a bit heavier with bread, peanut butter, water, and a few canned goods, she once again calmly walked up to the teenaged cashier with a bottle of water and a dollar. She paid and left. He had barely spared her a glance the entire time.

~x~

She'd nearly made it out of the small town. With the store clerk none the wiser, she thought she could leave town without any worries. Too bad she wasn't that lucky. She'd heard something she couldn't ignore.

An explosion.

The woman looked back only to see the small store she'd just stolen from burning. What was left of it anyway.

Without thinking, she turned into the next alley and took off at a sprint. She was miles away and on a train by sundown.


	2. Chapter 2

She'd broken one of her rules.

Well, two to be honest, though she would never admit to anyone that she had panicked; it was obvious however by her choice of destination when she came to her senses. It was safer to stay away from large cities, lest any of her "handlers" find her. Unfortunately, her panic had led her to New York City.

She had to leave. Now.

The dark haired woman looked around the alley she was hiding in. Excluding a man smoking at one end, it was empty.

Not good.

Empty meant an easy target, but the alley had a small crossway she could use. She backed away from the man until she stood in the center of the intersection. Turning, she looked up to see a fire escape leading to the roof, though she still watched the man at the end of the alley. He was watching her now.

He smiled.

She moved to climbed the fire escape only for her world to go black.

~x~

She awoke in a dark room sitting in a chair. There were no windows and a single dead light hanging above her. When she twisted, she could barely make out light reaching through the cracks in the door frame.

What concerned her more were the restraints keeping her in the chair.

Closing her eyes, the woman breathed deeply. Things could be worse. At least she was still awake and alive. Whether that was truly a fortunate occurrence had yet to be seen.

Opening her eyes, she scrutinized the restraints. Thick rope bound her forearms to the chair. He feet were left free though. Whoever restrained her must be idiotic.

Unless they wanted her to get out.

In that case, she had to tread carefully. As quietly as possible, she leaned forward and lifted the chair off the ground. She had to get this just right. There would only be one shot at this.

She charged backwards into the wall she had been facing before, smashing the chair's legs and weakening the arms of it. She had to move fast. It wouldn't be long before the noise attracted any guards. Shouts could already be heard.

Forcing the remains of her restraints off, she stood and moved to the door. She could hear running now.

Breathing slow and body tense, she watched as the door swung silently into the cell covering her body in the shadows as the rest of the room was bathed in light.

She struck quick, slamming the door shut. In the darkness, she could just make out the person's hands swinging in her direction, the faint light from the doorway making the metal gleam. There was a bang that echoed through the small room as she pushed the person's hands up and away. Turning into a decidedly male body, she wrested the weapon from his fingertips, stunning him with an elbow to the abdomen and finishing him with a blow to the knee.

She could barely hear voices outside the door over the rushing in her ears. Without pause, she hauled the man up, gun to his head, and faced the other unwelcome visitors entering the small room.

In the doorway stood another man and a woman, going by the body shapes, though it was clear to see the woman was in charge. Both raised more weapons at her. She stared unblinking at the woman's face.

"We only want to talk."

She only stared even more, though it was clear she'd understood the woman. The guns were still pointed at her. The man she was holding shifted.

"Put him down."

She contemplated following the order. A better idea came to mind. She'd wait. They wanted her for a reason. So she'd wait until there were no more weapons pointed at her.

"I'm not going to ask again."

The resolve in the stranger's voice gave her pause. Would she really…? A cracked and disused voice finally spoke.

"No weapons."

The stranger assessed her, it seemed. Reaching a conclusion, she spoke. "Jennings, lay your piece on the ground."

The man looked at her strangely for a moment, eyes flickering towards the prisoner. Slowly, he lowered his weapon to the ground. The woman kept hers pointed at her though.

"I'll holster mine when you give him back," she said, nodding towards the man she was holding up with her own strength. It was another tense moment before the yet unnamed man yelped, as he was shoved passed the woman in the doorway, where Jennings kept him from acquainting his face with the floor.

The prisoner pointed her newly acquired gun at the other woman instead. She watched as the other woman carefully holstered her piece in her belt, eyes never straying.

"Report, Reed."

"Knee is fucked, maybe a couple ribs. Can't walk on my own."

"Jennings, take him to the Med-bay. Make sure he stays until the Doc says otherwise."

"But, Boss-"

"Don't make me repeat myself, J."

With that the two men shuffled away, leaving an armed prisoner facing off against an obviously powerful woman known only as "Boss."


End file.
